


I see you, for you. |A Hank Mccoy Romance|

by CureBubble



Category: X-Men, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Animal Characteristics, Daddy Kink, F/M, Friendship/Love, M/M, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, pov switching, will add more tags as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-02 07:58:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15792339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CureBubble/pseuds/CureBubble
Summary: Hank Mccoy possess  genius level intellect and superhuman abilities. He is a brilliant man, well versed in arts, science and literary classics. Yet, hiding behind his witty sense of humor and snarky intellectual references, is a man afraid of social rejection. Due to his inhuman appearance, Hank has put his love life on the side focusing on his research, political activism and being a member of the X-Men. Afterall, who can love a blue hairy monster? Who can love a Beast?Things change when young Ruse Volkov arrives at Xavier's Academy for Gifted Youngsters. With a troubled past, Ruse is running away from the human world, trying to forget and seal away the parts of her past which she cannot bear.Ruse and Hank help each other heal and start the long process of wholesomely accepting yourself. It is not long before they discover that they each see the other for who they really are and sparks of attraction start flying between them.





	1. New Begginning

   

                                                             

                                                                                                (Cover Art By Me)

 

 

“Well Miss Volkov, I am sure you will find your stay at the Xavier Academy for Gifted Youngsters quite pleasant.”  
Emma Frost was sitting in front of a large leather-bound study, in the headmaster’s office. Dressed in a white leather outfit Ruse Volkov couldn’t decide why would anyone come to work dressed as high street prostitute. The woman’s platinum was hair pulled up in a strict ponytail, the only thing on her appearance that made her look vaguely professional. Ruse thought she bore an uncanny resemblance to the woman that swam around her father regularly.  
Miss Frost widened her smile and continued to regard her silently.

  
_“Round eyes, a courteous expression, no a practiced aggression. Probing eyes, assertive, furtive, wanting to read, make me concede. Dimples, one, two. 150 eyelashes, 72 lashes, 73, 74… Hands are covered, white colored… She is in control, the man in glasses next to the window doesn’t mind. He is letting her, allowing, enabling her. Family... friend……, lover……….? She grinned, a knowing smile, a cunning smile, she knows, she’s here, she is in my head… A telepath.”_

  
Ruse didn’t know much about telepaths, or in fact about any mutants. Yet, she was not going to let some domineering bitch, who apparently the headmaster was banging get inside her mind and to poke around. Being hurled by tyrants again, no, that was not going to happen.

  
Ruse Volkov was extremely smart and Miss Frost was in for a treat. If she wanted to take a stroll inside Ruse’s head sure why not, what she would make of it, now that was a completely different story. Ruse could up her brain output 200 times the normal amount. For example, if thoughts were like a lane of lazy traffic on warm summer day, the brand, color and finish of the car would be visible if someone looked closely enough. Maybe perhaps its passengers, their number, age, genre, and color would be distinguished. With dense traffic the more someone looked the more they would be able to make out. The basis of this theory was speed, the rate at which someone could read/ understand what is happening in front of them and because Miss Frost was able to read minds at the same speed she was able to produce her own thoughts, the solution to Ruse’s problem of privacy, was indeed a simple one. Being extremely smart had a lot of perks, due to her mutation she was able increase the rate at which her brain neurons fired at each other. Suddenly the speed of the cars and the number of lanes would grow. Not all cars are going to the same direction anymore, in fact their course sketches a chaotic frenzy. What otherwise would seem as havoc was the head space of someone who was able to access more than 10% of their brain. Miss Frost could be in her head for all she wanted but that didn’t mean she wasn intelligent enough to understand it, let alone keep up. Ruse huffed triumphantly and suppressed a smirk. She was in control of the situation, after all knowing so much, usually had that effect on people.

  
Her gift made her extremely perceptive of her surroundings enabling to catch details that most people wouldn’t. She was able to follow multiple trails of thought allowing her to take a lot of different directions while planning, processing and packing information. This was then used to deduct, deduce and derive. Not all of the information appeared to be of importance on its own but when used in the context of a given situation Ruse could make very educated guesses about people’s character, backstory and even thoughts.

  
For example, the moment she walked into the room she examined the large Tabriz rug grazing its center. This type of Persian rug originated from Tabriz city, one of the oldest rug waving centers in Iran. Yet, although the colors (Cream and navy blue) as well as the depicting scene of a ferocious lion was indeed in line with the original composition dating back to the 9th-10th century, this rug right here was definitely fake. The pattern should never be of the same shape and size from one opposite end to the other end of a handmade rug. No human, no matter how skilled is able to replicate consistently exactly the same shape and size of any design. The unevenness is used to certify the rug’s authenticity as machine-made rugs contain same pattern sizes all around and variations are not really visible. In this case, the right and left side of the rug, were perfect mirrors of each other, making this product undouble machine made and not handmade as the original was supposed to be. Yet, judging by the position of the item, as the room’s center piece the owner was quite proud of it. Surely, if they knew that it was a fake it wouldn’t be in such a prominent position.

  
The rest of the room did appear to exude a sense of grandiose but, just like the rug, upon closer inspection it was evident that the items were thrown together hastily and without a true sense for fineness. Clearly whoever was responsible for this space thought they were doing a fantastic job having all these “expensive” antiquities on display, yet clearly oblivious to their true origin. Appearing large and in charge was clearly very important for Emma Frost. Uncanny Ruse thought; this woman was too much like her father. At least her father had good taste and whatever antiquities he possessed were authentic. He once shot a man who brought him a fake Rembrandt van Rin painting.

  
It seemed ages before the signing in process had began and at that time Ruse had determined the probability of her surviving a jump from the window, next to which the real headmaster was standing. After she concluded for the 6th time this day that there will be no point in leaving now Miss Frost had finally looked at her and began her introduction of the school. Nothing new which she didn’t know already, after all it was her idea to the attend this school for “gifted individual” or mutants as they had come to be known. She doubted her father had the slightest idea what this school was really about, or for the fact that his daughter was indeed a mutant. Ruse had little interest in his opinion, it quite simply didn’t matter. He was better left off taking care of the family business, someone needed to milk the money cow, bills wouldn’t pay themselves.

  
“We take great care of our new students and we will see that you are made comfortable and at home” Miss Frost added, polite smile in place, eyes watching intently.  
“Professor, I am delighted to be here and cannot wait to continue my education under your tutelage.” Ruse paused, too much sarcasm? It didn’t matter, yet at her reply the man who was sat next to the window, turned and raised an eyebrow. Ruse couldn’t see through his glasses which had a prominent red hue. These weren’t normal she noted.

  
Miss Frost blinked but her smile remained firm on her face. She was trying to make sense of what was happening in the now chaotic brain of the young woman sitting in front of her. A silent crease between her eyebrows, she was trying hard. Yet the girl did not appear to be fazed. Hiding her annoyance which was mixed with intrigue Miss Frost turned her gaze to the other man in the room. He at least had no question marks.  
Rich Russian oligarch by the name of Vadik Volkov, or else the Iron Wolf, he was a cunning man, part of several sketchy business schemes. She had heard of him before, after all when your job is fighting psychopaths you are made well acquainted with the underworld. Although keeping up with appearances Vadik Volkov was dangerous, deep in the illegal business of money laundering and weapon trade. Yet it was not very clearly what exactly he was doing these days. From what she understood he briefly moved to France in order to marry and have his daughter, Ruse Volkov. If the daughter was anything like the father they were in for a treat. Yet her application had been peculiar enough for her to be accepted into the school.  
The young woman in front of her certainly was at odds with her father. She was tall and pale. Her short platinum hair was falling softly on the right side of her face, framing her deep green eyes. Her small frame was sitting formally in the chair, hands placed lightly in her lap. A large suitcase neatly next to her feet. She has been nodding and smiling with robotic ease, so much that Emma had decided to tap into her thoughts to see if she was actually alive. Ruse shifted in her sit, she was dressed in an oversized white shirt and green shorts, a boyish look Emma noted. No effort in displaying her feminine virtues, if she actually had any.

  
Emma glanced down to her files, apparently the Ruse Volkov had been to a variety of boarding schools, with the most recent addition to her CV being an establishment that appeared to be some sort of military school. She definitely spelled trouble, yet for as much trouble as she was her abilities were certainly unique, the way her head had become indecipherable in seconds was something that Emma hadn’t seen before. Emma looked at her again. She was thin, perhaps in fact, too thin. Malnourished? She could now see slight dark circles under her eyes, which were vacant of any sort of emotion.

  
Emma continued with explaining the curriculum, citing the regulations and showcasing mannerly interest in the girl’s previous academic achievements.  
_“Scott Darling what do you think?” Posing the question mentally she noticed that her lover had turned and was now examining their guests as well._  
_“He is quite the gangster alright. Got word from some friends in Russia that he was deeply involved in the weapon business, selling illegal firearms to the highest bidder. Nowadays his dealings appear to remain solely on the legal side, focusing on the marketing and trading of high end cars.”_

  
_“Oh my, what do you mean by legal? I am the only one who started hearing Nino Rota’s Godfather score playing, as soon as he walked in? Surely, such primitive man, never lose their thirst for power. They can play the part of the cultivated gentleman for all they want but they never lose the need for rotten meat at which they are accustomed to.”_

  
Scott huffed, trying to hide a smile. She was right, as always. He surveyed the man in front of him, tall muscly and dressed formally. A smug expression, eyebrows knitted, nose wrinkled like something was smelling bad in the room. Yet he was watching inventively. Now, if he was actually interested in what Emma was saying or just fascinated by her breasts, that was a whole different issue. One thing was for sure, the man had an unsettling presence and Scott wanted to punch him. Maybe he would and then, being left without choice Emma would have to alter his memories to save the school’s reputation.

  
Miss Frost cleared her throat, giving Vadik Volkov a few procedural papers to sign. The man was mostly lost under the thick black fur he was wearing on this early September day. Not only that but he was also sporting a tailored white suit, which went nicely with his tan. Without breaking eye contact he reached out and accepted the documents from her hand, while making sure his fingers grazed hers. Emma's fixed smile did not waver but Scott took a step closer and lightly placed his hand atop the grand leather chair on which Emma was seated. She fought the tendency to roll her eyes, Scott was such a puppy, adorable really, he wanted to assert his dominance in the presence of the antagonist male. She had more creative ideas of asserting dominance, for example making the man in front of her, shove his black cane into his ass and fuck himself until tears came off his eyes.

  
Mr.Volkov took his time signing the documents while running a hand through his short white hair. Although faded Emma could she a wolf tattooed at the back of his shaved head. His fingers heavy and abhorred which black and silver jewelry chimed as he held the pen. A bold statement of power and wealth.

  
“Thank you Mister Volkov” she acknowledged. Once the papers were retrieved, she gracefully placed her hands-on top of the leather study and pushed herself up. “This is the part where we give you the grand tour, show you all the facilities and the dormitory where your daughter will be staying.” She nodded towards the door.

  
“That would be fine Miss Frost!” Vadik Volkov scoffed audibly and got up abruptly. Adjusting his heavy coat, he raised his chin and added “I am sure your facilities are adequate to educate and house my daughter. Aftercall, I am paying a small fortune for her to be kept here.” He turned on his heels and headed for the door. “See you at Christmas Ruse” he chittered. With his hand on the knot he paused momentarily and turned “no earlier than that.” Shutting he door behind, Emma could hear him hum on his way out. She didn’t need to read his thoughts to know he was happy to get as far away from this place as possible.  
“Good riddance” stated Scott under his breath. Although Ruse did not react, the tension on her jaw eased a bit.  
After a long pause Emma turned to her new student.

  
“Now darling, should we go look at your new room?” She suggested with a genuine smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the end of each chapter I will leave notes about the inspiration used for the characters and/or the situations featured in the chapter.
> 
> Ruse Volkov character inspiration and abilities: Sherlock Holmes (BBC), Eurus Holmes (BBC), Cole (Dragon Age Inquisition), Lucy (2014 Film).
> 
> Vadik Volkov character inspiration: Lucius Malfoy (Harry Potter), Gellert Grindelwald (Fantastic Beasts), Vladimir Putin (yes the president)


	2. The worst first impression.

Ruse buried her face into the pillow, while letting out a groan. She had to admit that her new bed was quite comfy, nothing like the hard surface she had been sleeping on during that summer. Spacious and with nice linens she wondered if maybe "this" wasn't such a bad idea. After all, if push came to shove she could always make a run for it. Since the room was on the ground floor, she had a 74% chance of reaching the front gate in time. That is if her observations of the security systems in place, had been accurate.  
  
Her roommate appeared to be out and the other bed, placed exactly opposite hers seemed untouched. Yet, there were signs of someone living there. Clear signs. The large window was letting in plenty of sunlight which softly grazed the plants placed in every possible living surface on the other half of the room.  
  
Levanter, Jasmine, Rosemary, Aloe Vera, Chrysanthemum, English Ivy, Areca Palm, Golden Pothos, Red edged Dracanea, Cerbera daisy as well as a couple of bonsai trees. Ruse recognised all of them, although they didn’t read as a collection. It was more of an accumulation of sorts, it was bizarre.  
  
A biology project during secondary school had made her familiar with most common plants in the north hemisphere of the Earth. Of course, she had failed the project spectacularly, since there was no point in actually making an effort. Her father would remain indifferent towards her and she had stopped trying the moment she realised just that. Good grades or not the man simply didn't care.  
  
The bastard had made quite a scene today of course. Miss Frost had managed to hide her surprise but Scott summers? Admittedly, it was quite funny seeing how new people would react to him. But what would they think if they knew that this version, was most palatable she had managed to construct after hours of intense concentration, compelling him not to be a piece of shit.

The control over her powers was still imperfect and maybe the block she had put on some of his more violent tendencies would weaken by the time she would get to see him again. It was an imperfect job and there was still much room for improvement, after all this was the reason she had chosen to come here, to this school, in order to learn and improve control over her abilities. The events of this summer had proved just how important that was.  
  
Earlier she had politely excused herself refusing to accompany Miss Frost in exploring the rest of the manor. Invoking jetlag was apparently a convincing enough reason for her to be shown to her room and be left alone to unpack and "settle in". It was still early in the day but she was already tired. She closed her eyes in an attempt to relax, breathing in the air which was heavy with the flower fragrances. The feelings of despair and futility became more prominent.  
  
Even though she was fully aware of her situation and had logically examined her alternatives 16 times already since this morning, it still did not hurt less. She was being getting rid of, again. Too much trouble, too much effort, being send away to be someone else's problem. Just like last time and the time before. The mental limiter she had created for her negative thoughts threatened to overflow. No, she's alright, at least here she would have the chance to learn and explore in search of knowledge and in freedom of the human world it's adversities.  
  
She turned on her bed and curled in a ball. She did not fit in with the humans, her peers or in fact people of any age. It always became boring too quickly. Her ability to read and understand everything much quicker than anyone else, made her feel excluded as she was not going through the natural progression and growth of a normal human being.

What was the point of writing of 2000 word report on the properties and characteristics of the Echinacea flower when she could list all 950-plant species used for herbal medicine in India. Ruse found it all silly and without point. During school she had to jump through similar hoops in order to "prove" that she was smart. Like some plebian teacher whose IQ would never even come close to hers, could tell her something she didn't already know about herself.  
  
Stuck and unwanted in the human world she had decided to take her chances and a lip into the unknown mutant one. Mathematically at least it was impossible for it to be worst. In attempt to calm herself down, she had re calculated that probability at least 3 times in the past 5 minutes.  
  
Yet, settling in this new house proved much more emotionally draining than she had originally anticipated. Resigning herself to counting plant leafs, she refused to spend anymore time worrying. At least if things went very bad there was a way out into tranquillity. She would compel herself to stop feeling, she just hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Ruse had already compelled herself to forget a pile of harmful memories and repressed tons of negative thoughts. Soon the mental limiters would break and emotions would come down crashing. She just hoped she would learn how to control her gift in time and make herself forget, once and for all. On the 136 leaf of the English Ivy she fell asleep.  
  
\------------------------  
  
Ruse woke up with a jolt. She thought she heard the door open and close, but no one was in. The room appeared to be empty. Firing up her brain she scanned the room intensively, yet she didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. The time read 1 o'clock, crap she had fell asleep for 3 hours. Still fuzzy from her dreamless slumber she noticed the discomfort in her stomach. Hunger. Damn she had missed lunch too. Great! Way to go on her first impression! Acted like a true dame, fell asleep and missed food. Sighting she got up.  
  
_"There must be some food left around here!"_ Bringing up the building plans in her head, she estimated with 80% certainty that the kitchen was in the northeast side of the building. After all, in old Victorian manors the kitchen was always placed in the ground floor facing northwest in order to allow the morning light in and accommodate the cooks who always started food preparation early in the dawn. Deciding that 80% was good enough she got up and made her way to the kitchen.  
  
The corridors were surprisingly empty, no students or teaching staff were spotted. Ruse was sure that everyone was either extremely busy or was hiding on purpose. Outside the windows she could hear a commotion. Several people were running behind a hairy man who was flaunting his arms around, in what appeared to be a heated work out, session. They were all dressed in grey sportswear and the hairy man was chanting something Ruse couldn't make out. The rest of the students were repeating out of tune while struggling to keep up. _“What a truly bizarre place”_ she though.

Something throbbed at the back of her head and Ruse backed off from the large windows. She continued her search for the kitchen putting walking away from the unsettling feeling, while keeping in the shadows of the manor.  
  
The kitchen was 10 meters to the west from her original estimation. The tasty smell of food made her quicken her pace. Perhaps they were indeed some leftovers! Hand on the door frame and while using one foot as an anchor, she let her weight sway her in the kitchen area. A light hum became a loud gasp as she arbitrarily came into a stop. Her eyes wide fixed forward, she lost her balance and had to take a few steps to steady herself. A yelp escaped her lips before her hands could come up to cover her mouth.  
  
The blue... creature turned quickly and fixed her with its eyes. In that moment everything seemed to slow down. There was a kitchen island between them and for those few seconds Ruse felt safer. From the ceiling a handful of kitchen utensils were hanging: ladles, graters and pots. She could not use any of that for defence, that would be ridiculous. On the counter was a toaster in which the cheese was sizzling not quite ready yet. Next to toaster was a knife in the butter! Aha! Although she had less than 9% chance of reaching it in time, before being caught by the large creature, it was still a plan. Or maybe the stools under the counter were a better idea? She hadn’t been eating very well so she doubted that with her body mass she would be able to lift the wooden furniture and actually do serious damage to the creature in front of her.  
  
The beast did not move, it just stayed there frozen, dismayed, looking with frigid eyes.  
  
_“Dark eyes, yellow eyes, tense eyes. Human eyes. Blinking, scanning, assessing. Sharp breaths, nostrils twitching, tongue liking, paws stirring. Beast. Unsure, uncertain, tense. Blue. Big hands big fingers, big claws. Beast. Trimmed, shappened, sharpened, cared for. Human. Fur, hair, purr. Beast. Groomed, tidy, mannerly. Human. Limps contracting, eyes darting, calm, certain, reason, cause, sense. Human. Classes, clothes, shoes. Human. Wait is that a fucking apron?”_  
  
"Hi! Did I scare u?" A strained smile. Weary eyes, white lies, he knew did. He didn't mean to. Need to stop, make it right, I don't bite.  
  
He blinked and in his eyes she could she her own expression. One of shock, face contoured, disbelief, with no relief. High brows, soft frowns. Body tense, strained with... fear? But the ...creature in front of her showed no signs of threat, violence, or of an impending attack. His shoulders, wide, big, strong, muscly, blue, dropped slowly releasing some tension, but his jaw remained tight.  
  
"Coffee?" He offered, raising his mug. An attempt to reconcile, to control the damage, an opportunity for a conversation.

Ruse was never at a lose for words, never! Yet, today in the last couple of minutes she had missed her social queue twice and her chances of appearing at least normal in front of this new _person_ seemed abysmal.  
  
_"Move"_ , she thought and her body complied, settling in a more relaxed position. Even thought she had never faced the big blue unknown before, she decided that and apology was in order. After all, it was extremely rude to stare and gape at... people.  
  
Taking a step forward she pressed her palms on her chest, eyebrows knitted in worry and said pleadingly.  
  
"I am so sorry Sir, I did not mean to be disrespectful. My name is Ruse Volkov and I am new here." She flashed him a sheepish smile. "I was just expecting to be alone and was totally lost in my thoughts when I noticed you." Taking another step forward, eyes wavering for a second she then looked at him again "I hope _I_ did not scare you" she giggled wearily.  
  
By mirroring the other person's body language and sentiment, she had hoped to create empathy and understanding between them. It worked like a charm, HA!

The... man echoed her smile letting out a soft breath. Wait no, it was a growl. A. Growl. What? Soft like a purr and all of a sudden she could only see a big blue cat staring at her. He did have feline characteristics _and_ human _and_ he was covered in f u r. It was strange, it was bizarre is was... new.  
  
But what was even stranger, was the fact that she could not read him at all. No matter how hard she tried, all Ruse was getting was... blue. This was unprecedented, unknown, unexplored, new territory, dare I say something she did not know about. This turn of events was desirable, this was intriguing. This was... Christmas!  
  
"Good, cause for a second I though you were going to run out screaming." A huffed smile. He brought his mug to his feline lips and allowed his tongue to deep into the coffee. It was lengthy, pink and gracefully slender as it twirled into the dark concussion. His glasses clouded up but didn't break eye contact. Ruse gripped the kitchen counter, breath hitching in her throat.  
  
"Why would I do that?" she finally managed.  
  
He huffed. "I don't know, maybe cause I am big, hairy and blue?" He chuckled,  finally bringing his mug onto his lips. Yet, his eyes told a different story. Sullen eyes, humming wise and Ruse felt shame and regret for even considering to use the butter knife against him. Of course he didn't mean any harm, there was no way someone had let a big blue monster loose in the mansion, who was now making coffee and toast in the kitchen to pass time. Yet, her first response had been to run away. She figured other people must have the same reaction otherwise the man wouldn't be using his appearance as a joke to lighten up the mood.  
  
"I am sorry" she said again, genuinely this time. "For what it is worth I think your fur is exquisite."

Silence. The steam covered his glasses and it seemed like an eternity until he swallowed his coffee. His left paw scrapped under the kitchen counter, nails slightly bagging into the wood. Yet, the man's expression remained the same, one of controlled poise. What laid below the mask Ruse could not interpret. Hell, she couldn't even remember why she had come to the kitchen in the first place.  
  
Suddenly, she realised that she did not know his name. Great, this was the third time where she completely zoned out and forgot her social queues.  
  
"How rude of me", she offered. "I haven't asked for your name." Head chocked to her left, she gave him another wide grin.  
  
"Hank Mccoy" he replied after a few moments of controlled silence. Placing his mug on the counter, the steam cleared off his glasses and Ruse could see two felid orbs observing her carefully.  
  
"Oh" she replied, part to fill the silence, part to buy a few more seconds in the 24th attempt to decipher the man. There was nothing.  
  
"Do you work here?" She tried.  
  
Thick lashes fluttered, betraying a spark of amusement.  
  
"Yes" he allowed, voice deep. Lifting his mug again he took another slow seep. Eyes waiting, expecting, baiting, obviously aware of something she wasn't. Ruse hated being clueless, it seldomly happened and even then, she was at least able to hide the confusion from her face. A deduction had to be made and quickly! He was obviously waiting for her reply. Frustration and panic, both rare feelings started to rise in her throat. She glanced at his apron.  
  
"Are you... the chef?" she tried.  
  
His brows rose quickly, amusement evident in his face, voice rapidly changing into laugher. Genuine, booming, coming deep from within his lungs. Rough and wild around the edges. Reverberating into her ears, Ruse though it sounded so raw and fresh. This was the first he was lowering his guard around her completely. His chest heaved and he had to bring his hand up to cover his cheshire grin, in a futile  attempt to compose himself.  
  
Soon embarrassment rose to her cheeks, red flushes purred from her chest making her fidget. She had obviously said something very very wrong, obviously missing out on a piece of information that was seemingly common knowledge around here, damn it!  
  
"Miss Volkov, I have been called a lot of things in my life, but a chef was never one of them." He chuckled, trying to subdue his residual laughter. "Although, I can see why you would make that assumption." He glanced down at his outfit. This was terrible she had to say something, do something, anything to salvage the situation.  
  
"I am a professor here" he explained. "I teach science, run the infirmary and in my spare time I do research." He took his glasses off and rubbed the residual steam off on the apron. Then slowly he sank on counter resting on his elbows. His eyes were now on the same level as hers. "But off course you would now that if you had taken the tour earlier today."  
  
She blinked, her eyes growing wide. Oxygen didn't seem make it to her brain, she felt light headed. He must have noticed her turmoil.  
  
"Oh please do not worry! No further apology is needed. I myself dislike the ceremonious functions and large crowds. Yet, I find it that having an understanding of the facilities and people I will be staying with, helps me relax and settle in." He grinned and white teeth flickered against the sunlight. It was quite literally dazzling.  
  
Was it possible? Someone she had just met was able to read her so thoroughly, while the most she had managed to make, was the worst impression ever?  
  
"Here!" he said giving her the toast he was making. "Since you missed lunch you must be starving."  
  
Wait, what, how? Who was this guy? Dumbstruck she took the toast from his hand unable to verbally retort. His right ear twitched and went silent for a few seconds. Then with swift movements he put the toaster away and refilled his mug.  
  
“Oh and good luck for today. My colleague just barks, he never bites.” He picked up the mug, newspaper and made his way past her out of the kitchen. The scent of mint reached her nose as she noticed, small droplets of water hanging at the back of his head. An unsung urge spurred into her fingers as she wanted to reach out and feel the wet fur under her touch.  
  
With a sharp jolt she came back to reality, standing alone in the now empty kitchen with her left hand being covered in toast cheese. He was gone and Ruse wandered if there was still time for her to run after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ruse meeting Hank is inspired by:  
> Sherlock Holmes meeting Irene Adler (BBC)


	3. Down the Rabbit Hole

"Are you Miss Ruse Volkov?"  
Having just finished her toast, Ruse jolted and turned to the kitchen entrance. Heaving and clutching the door frame, was now the strange hairy man she had seen earlier running outside the mansion. His gym crew didn't appear to follow him.  
  
"Are you?" he demanded, voice rasp.  
Beads of sweat traced his muscly chest, which went up and down rapidly. By the looks of it, he must have ran here. Taking another step forward, eyebrows knitting he fixed her with a cold gaze.

  
"Kid, stop staring and answer the damn question!" His tone was sharp like the teeth he bared at her. She flinched and nodded. "Your late!" he stated and ran a palm through his pointy hair in exasperation.  
  
"Drop down and give me ten!"  
  
_What?_  
  
Ruse froze on her tracks, her breath hitching. The back of her head stung and she suddenly felt cold. No, this was risky, she had to say something to recoil and defuse the situation. Straightening her back, hands forming fists, she would remain in control!

"And who might you be sir?" She request, her voice coming out flat but a little hoarse.  
  
The man huffed, looking down on her. He crossed his arms and took a step closer. "Someone whose orders you should always follow." He drew out that last bit, annoyance evident in his voice.

The sting at the back of her head turned into a throb. Thoughts ragging in her head, this scenario would not end well. She was beginning to feel very uneasy, something about him was triggering something deep she had struggled to burry. But... what? Before she could finish her thoughts he leaned in closer and said "Well kid what is it going to be? Want detention from your first day here?"  
  
_"Feeling his breath on my nose, it stings of cheap beer and a crooked nightmare. Memories of someone forgotten, unsung hollers that I had left to rotten. Breaths coming slow, his blue eyes farrow something deep within that wants to say hello."  
_  
Air did not make it to her lungs and the blood drained from her fingertips, she trembled. Her whole head was throbbing now, each pulse colder than the other. Slowly but surely she felt herself slipping away, her mind deserting control of her body, her thoughts taking her to a place she did not will to be.  
  
_"Nails, clawing at a glass door, each thud louder each blow screaking, squealing, screeching. Cruel, eager to come out, break and spread agony, dreed, insanity. Forming a breach to my sanity."  
_  
She wanted her mind to work, begged for it to find a way to jump start again. But neither her knees responded to her running pleas, nor her mouth screamed for the man to back away. Her feet were firmly rooted to the ground, as if she had been put under a spell by his demeanour and voice. A voice that she had only recently stopped hearing.  
  
"Miss Volkov, your training started the moment you stepped your foot inside this mansion! On the ground! Now!" He growled and she obeyed. Only the moment her palms touched the ground and she glanced up to him again, the man was gone. The floor below her hands felt strange, this was definitely not carpet.  
  
She examined the ground only to find it consisting of a composition of minerals and organic matter. _Soil._ Dirt and small brown pebbles where intertwining with her fingers. _Weird_. A droplet of sweat landed between her hands. She was feeling very hot. Hastily, she turned to face the sky. It was grey, embellished with dark clouds. _Why was there a sky in the kitchen?_ The atmosphere was heavy with humidity and her skin felt sticky by the increased moisture in the air. She could smell the rain that was coming. This felt... real. _Too real_. Panic came in thick strokes and she wept trying to regain her composure.  
  
"Ten more now ladies! Miss Volkov don't cheap, I can see you." She veered to the direction of the voice, a distant echo, a reverb of what was once something. She turned again and again only to find nothing. Only girls. Young woman dressed in green and grey tracksuits as the ones Ruse was now wearing. Military trousers and boots, covered in dirt and mud. They were all panting, exhausted in a definite attempt to keep up.  
  
Something grabbed her hand, and she gasped. A small girl with luscious blonde curls looked at her with eyes red from crying. Her expression rigid, her left cheek slightly puffed and purple.  
  
"He is coming" she warned.  
  
"Wha-"  
  
"Run!"  
  
Ruse launched herself to the opposite direction but fell face front onto something hard and unmoving.

  
"How nice of you to visit us down here! "

  
A large boot landed hard on her chest, pinning her down. She looked up and saw a large man wearing a martial uniform. The edges of his silhouette flailed like he was made out of smoke. His suit was moss green, tight on his frame, held in place by a black leather belt just below his chest. He held his hands behind him, with soldier like composure. But his face, she couldn't make out, it fizzed with static and danced like flame.  
  
He pressed his boot on her chest, cutting into her lungs. She couldn't breath. Hands shoot up to shake him off, desperate, gasping for air as her chest burned. The man didn't move, he barely flinched as he leaned in. "What is wrong Miss Volkov? You look a bit distressed."  
  
Hands wrapped around her neck and his nails dag into the rear of her skull. She cried out as the throbbing came in long and intense bursts. "Oh, don't worry, its only going to hurt a lot!"  
  
She felt her skin tearing apart as he crushed her into the mud. The edges of his form started to settle, stray pieces returning to form a coherent image.  
  
"Do you remember now sweetheart?"  
  
She screamed.  
  
"Look kid, if you can just hurry up I would really appreciate it."  
  
The hairy man was walking down a corridor. She was back at the mansion being rushed to an unknown destination. She did not remember how she got there. Her body was moving forward but she felt no control over it.  
  
"Hurry up!" The man sounded distant, reverberating, almost mechanical, almost like _he_ wasn't real. Her vision was blurry and with every step it became darker around the edges, threatening her to slip back into the reality of her flashback.  
  
She was hyperventilating now, desperate to snap out of her trauma. Trying again and again to fire up her brain and conjure more invisible walls and push the memories back into the bunker. She could not go back there! Under no circumstances she would experience that shit again. Damn it all to hell, she was sinking and hope slipped further away with every second. She wanted to scream and run, but her limps simply held their place swaying back and forth merrily.  
  
Ruse knew the symptoms all too well and was always on the lookout for triggers. Having her guard up, keeping her emotions and thoughts in check with the help of her gift, meant that she was able to deal with any flashbacks efficiently by compelling herself to stop. Due to her mutation Ruse could understand herself on a molecular level. Feeling the vibrations of her cells, sensing the different chemicals in her body and thus monitoring how and when her organs functioned. She used this knowledge in order to mend or alter bodily functions that she did not _require_. Just like a computer constantly monitoring and updating itself, trashing anything that she deemed insignificant and putting in quarantine what she could not trash, _yet_.  
  
Normally she would have already compelled the part of the brain which was responsible for regulating emotional responses during PTSD, to stop. As well as instructed her neurons to produce a shot of dopamine, in order to stabilize her mood and end her vivid hallucinations.  
  
But things were different now, her encounter with the blue man had left her vulnerable and confused. She had let her guard down and was still daydreaming when the negative stimuli hit her. With no time to compose herself or regulate her emotions, the way this person had approached her, caught her off guard. This had stunned her brain which resulted into the memory breach, the implications of which, she was now experiencing.  
  
Defenceless, the shock threw her off, losing all control of her body. She was now in auto pilot mode, a function which she only reserved for desperate situations. Normally she would be able to slip in and out of it willingly, whereas now she was walking around like a puppet, following the one that had put her into this trance.  
  
Disassociating and feeling trapped in her own skin, her lungs burned with the desire to cry out. Long skeletal fingers were pulling her back into her other reality, lulling her eyes closed, only for them to forced open into a world that she had left behind.  
  
"Are you okay kid?"  
  
A single hand on her shoulder, a big grey sky spreading over him, a thunder sounding in the distance. The static fizzled up, water filled her lungs and she choked. The hand on her shoulder started to shake her, until she felt both arms pressing her down.  
  
"Miss Volkov! How nice of you to join us again!"  
  
The hairy man was gone and in his place was a dark room, a single light shining harshly from across the other side. She tried to move but it was impossible.  
  
_Oh, no! No, no, no!  
_  
Tied on a chair, ropes biting into her wrists brushing the skin that was rubbing against her restrains. She cried out but no sound came from her lungs.  
  
The voice sounded closer, amused, pacing next to the light. When she tried to make out what she was seeing the lamp blinded her. She heard footsteps approaching, electronic blips, echoing in a metallic room. He was holding something.  
  
"Look at the camera Miss Volkov" he tutted, the flash went off and she winced. "Do make sure to smile! I will of course capture that cocky smirk of yours."  
  
"No! Please, stop it!"  
  
_This was done. This happened, this was in the past. This wasn't real.  
_  
"Yes maybe," he rasped "but the fear your feeling right now Miss Volkov, is very real!" he laughed.  
  
"Now look at me!"  
  
"No", she pleaded. "I cant..."  
  
"This, is your fault remember?" He yanked her face and forced her to face him. "If you had just looked none of this would have happened!"  
  
Tears sprang from her eyes. She felt a sharp pain in her stomach, his fist knocking the life out of her body. Curled into a ball, she wished for her heart to stop.  
  
_No this isn't true, this isn't true, this isn't true._  
  
"Not true? Hardly Miss Volkov. Yet this," he said and raised a big bucket "this is fun!"  
  
Emptying the contents of the bucket, she cried out as freezing water washed over her, reaching every nook and cranny on her body.  
  
He laughed sickly. "Oh don't be so dramatic, I promise you will get used to it! After all, I only intent to make you relive every bit of shattered thought and broken memory you have shoved down here till you beg me to take you! And this time Miss Volkov, I will make sure you are left in pieces."  
  
She wept, shaking her body and tried to break free. The water was drained from her body and clothes, refilling the bucket. The man leisurely picked it up and this time he slowly emptied its contents again.  
  
Waiting to go crazy, that was what was going to happen if she stayed here. She knew she could not survive this reality. Still mouth, ragged breaths and running eyes _NO_ she was not willing to go this way. No, now that she still had some strength left. Holding onto the tinniest fragment of her reality, she was going to set herself free.  
  
Cold water washed over her, she had to use all her might to focus and bite her tongue. The jolt of pain and taste of blood, seemed to jog her brain which in turn blurred the vivid chaos. She was in a large metallic room with a height ceiling. No windows no exit no possible escape. Yet, in that room stood her release.  
  
Peering up the rabbit hole she searched for her way out. The only way that made sense, in her shattered state of mind. Pairs of eyes looked down at her with worry. She was being shaken, people rushing around. But she only needed the blue glare that had pushed her into the rabbit hole.

  
She met his eyes and he looked oh so worried. He probably wasn't even that bad of a person, Ruse was sure of it, he was just a bit... well, Spartan. She smiled wearily, not sure if the emotion even registered on her face. Under normal circumstances this was not a burden she would give anyone to carry. But she was desperate and not in control. There was only one way to stop the nightmare. She focused on his eyes and prayed that her compulsion would work just this once.  
  
They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. Portals to the very core of each being. Darting, flickering, closing, gazing, squinting, betraying. If she peered very closely, she could see the strings and tugs that propelled him into action. The thoughts and feelings, actions and reactions, his very existence. As she could do with her own body, she'd only need to tug at the right string to call him.  
  
Her eyes flew open, bright iridescent gems reflecting her wish which became his will. The arms which held her close up to that point, began to tremble. She fixed him with her gaze, eyes locked, feeling his cell vibrating, tuning her resonance to match his. Emotions ran through his eyes, multiple threats turning into chains she could now pull. But there was only one thing she needed him to do.  
  
"You have to kill me." Her strength run out and she fell back, the hooks pulling her back into the dream. _"I'm sorry"_ she breathed hoping he would hear her. A moment passed which seemed like an eternity, hot steel claws tore into her stomach. Then everything faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ruse’s Nightmare inspiration: Alice Madness Returns (Video Game)


End file.
